Its really touching to read so many people talking about their love for their mother’s.

I love my Mother too much nad never fail to tell her that every day. To an extent that when ever i call my Mom she asks me u called to say You love me and I know that already. I cannot live without her at all. Her Touch, Her Words, Her smile are my traesure that will never extint for me. I take this opportunity to tell her Again Ma I love U and will always Do so.

Urs Only Hemangi

Amma… love you so much… : )

Have a Blessed Day…

Cheers.

I agree with you but want to add little more, that mother’s tear is nothing but LOVE.

I really love this article and it is very true about mums.

and i believe that mums are all very specaill and unique gift from got for us. thanks to god for presenting us this very unique gift.

Happy mothers day to all mums and I love you very very much mum Thanks alot for all your kindness and carring hope to see you happy and healthy always.

love always your doughter Saher

The text I posted (Mothers die when they want) was not written by me, it was written by a Brazilian writer whose name is Alexandre Pilegi….but I agree with him from top to bottom, and as yours, thanks God, my mum is still alive too….

Elian, i did similar things as yours too.but thank God my mum is still alive and i just love her so much.

Mother are the just very little glimpse of GOD…
i love u my mother
i really love u mom
i am sorry i never said this
but i hope u must know this
3 years later u left this world
i really feel insecure,sad and weak
without U MOM !!!!!

pls love your mother and care her…..
Dont hurt them
becoz mother has no replacement…ASK those who has lost thier mothers…what they feel abt themmmm

Loves Always Shakun

my mom is my best friend…i have shared the best and worst of all the things i do in my life….
i adore her…..

for me my parents are the best teachers….thou life is a teacher on its own…..

Thanks Pravs,

\\K

Mothers die when they want …
(Alexander Pelegi)

I was 7 years old when I killed my mother for the first time. I did not want her next to me when I come to school in my 1st day of class. I felt strong enough to meet the challenges that new life would bring to me.

Few weeks later I was relieved to discover she was still there, ready to defend myself not only from those aggressive kids that threatened me, but also from the insurmountable difficulties of the multiplication table.

When I was 14 years I shot her again.
I didn´t want her imposing rules or limits, nor wanted her to prevent my living the fullness of juvenile dreams.

But fortunately I discovered she was alive when I first got drunk – she, not only cured me of that hangover, but also avoided a shameful beating on the part of my father.

At the age of 18 I thought I would finally kill my mother, no chance for resurrection. I signed in college, I would live in a hall of residence with friends, I would participate in political movements, activities which a maternal presence was not under any consideration.

What a mistake! when I found myself confused about which direction to take, I went back home to mother, the only possible area for shelter and understanding.

At 23 years I realized that the maternal death was possible, requiring only slowness and time… That was when I got married, I declared myself independent and then set off.

But as soon as the first daughter was born I discovered that the animal ‘mom’ becomes a more vigorous specimen called ‘grandmother’. For those who have not been thru the experience, a grandmother is a mother in double dose …

Despite all this I still believed in the theory of slow death……. and slowly started feeling more and more distant and on my own, even if she reappeared at regular intervals in my life performing important roles, roles that only she could play …

But the end of this story, contrary to what I always thought, was she who defined: when least expected, she decided to die. Just like this, unexpectedly, without asking permission, without setting a date or time for farewell.

She simply passed away, leaving the lesson that mothers are forever. Rather than I have ever imagined, they are the ones who decide how long this eternity can last, and how much is left to the ethereal land of nostalgia …